


The Method of Profession

by poetrymafia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4614465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetrymafia/pseuds/poetrymafia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most fake girl in Ymir’s history class gets paired with her, the girl with the bluntest personality imaginable. Do the two simply hate each other? Or is Historia hiding something besides her true self?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "An Imperfect Animal, She Always Deceives"

> _"For as she is a liar by nature, so in her speech she stings while she delights us." - Malleus Maleficarum, 1486._

 

Ymir pushed her goggles up to her forehead and half sighed with relief. Her lab for the week was almost over -- turn in her notes for today, get through one more class period, and then she was free to enjoy the weekend. And by “enjoy”, she meant getting tipsy in the woods behind Reiner’s and doing all kinds of stupid shit she wouldn’t remember by the time her ass was back at her desk on Monday.

She glanced up to see if her teacher was paying attention, but Mrs. Harrison had her feet propped up on her desk. It looked like she was grading papers… or doodling. Ymir pushed her own pencil around halfheartedly. She hadn’t managed to form whatever fucking gas the board up front said that her concoction should produce, but she knew Mrs. H would give partial credit if she turned in something that looked like work.

The bell’s shrill tones cut her note-taking short. Ymir ripped off her notebook page to hand in, and shoved the book and pencil back into her bag. The day was almost over. Then she could enjoy mindless activities of her own choosing instead of mindless grubbing for grades.

By the time Ymir reached the door, most of her classmates had already shoved their way into the moving current of flesh outside. She didn’t know why she felt sluggish today, when she was so close to the weekend.

As she squeezed into the hall, Ymir felt her elbow connect against something small and squishy.

“Ow!” the small something shrieked. Ymir grunted and stepped back awkwardly. Down near her shoulder was the petite blonde from her history class -- Christina, or something. She looked well-padded with her thick pink sweatershirt and bulging backpack, so Ymir thought the contact couldn’t have hurt that much. But Christina looked furious. Her blue eyes practically sparkled with rage. 

“Geez,” Ymir mumbled. “Sorry, princess.” The girl sighed. “It’s fine,” she murmured, pushing past Ymir.

Ymir didn’t react outwardly besides a quick clench of her fists. Standard. Fucking rich kids acting like they own the hallways. People always said to be the better person when it came to snobs like that, but Ymir thought giving them a little of their own back to them was a better approach. Anyway, if she saw that little princess in the hall again, she wouldn’t be stepping out of her way.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Professor Lybeck was scribbling furiously on the board up front as Ymir dropped into her decaying wooden desk near the back of the room. “Gender and Sexuality” was the topic today, apparently; and underneath Mr. Lybeck had written “witchcraft / heresy”, “upheaval”, and “1486”.

“Oh shit,” Ymir whispered darkly, scrabbling through her backpack. Lybeck had assigned some reading three days ago for this, and of course, with three days in which to read it, Ymir hadn’t bothered looking at it before (or after) shoving it in her backpack.

“Women’s sexuality,” Mr. Lybeck began as Ymir dropped binders and notebooks onto her desk. “In the 15th century documents we’ll be looking at today, we’ll see women were under heavy scrutiny…”

Ymir grabbed the crumpled sheaf of papers from the bottom of her backpack and attempted to straighten them out on top of the precarious stack in front of her. _Malleus Maleficarum, 1486_. In smaller letters, _The Hammer of Witches_.

She glanced up to see Christy, or whatever her name was, a row ahead and on her right. She’d been twirling a lock of her silky hair around a pencil, while surreptitiously watching Ymir from the corner of her eye. When Ymir caught her eye though, she looked away. _Her innocent face is over-the-fucking-top_ , Ymir thought, glaring at what little of the girl’s face she could see. Her eyes widened as she gazed at Mr. Lybeck, as if his opinion on women’s sexuality in history was entirely engrossing. _No one believes this bimbo act_ , Ymir hissed at her telepathically.

“...For this paper,” Mr. Lybeck was saying. Oh shit. Ymir grabbed a ballpoint from her backpack and started scribbling notes in the corner of _Malleus Maleficarum_. “...You will need to use primary sources, the two kinds of which we talked about are…” He paused to let the class answer which, unsurprisingly, no one did. “Prescriptive aaand…” He trailed off hopefully.

“ _De_ scriptive,” the class monotoned. The blonde girl leaned her head on her hand, blocking her face from Ymir’s view. Unlike Ymir, who was frantically scribbling down the assignment -- when had Lybeck written this on the board? 3 fucking pages over the weekend? What the hell? -- the blonde girl was swirling her pencil around her paper almost lazily.

“Your partners will be assigned at random for today,” Lybeck grabbed the empty coffee he had sitting on his desk, “so please everyone write your name on a slip of notebook paper, and I’ll draw names for this class discussion.” A good half of the class groaned while the other half dutifully carried out the instructions. Ymir shoved her stack of books from the desk into her backpack and ripped the corner off the _Maleficarum_ to put her name on. Class discussion was the easy part of history. She just had to grunt and sigh until it was done. And if someone else had something smart to say, she would write it down and put it in her essay.

Ymir zoned out while Lybeck read off the names of his 30+ students. She found herself idly circling every mention of “sex”, “wicked”, and “women” on the pages in front of her, drawing lines connecting them, until she had a spiderweb of wicked women sex. Her name startled her into looking up. “Ymir…” Mr. Lybeck reached into the can again. “Samuel J. … and Historia…” Ymir frowned and narrowed her eyes at the blonde girl, who was, to her surprise, openly looking at her.

Historia’s eyes were large as saucers, she realized now that she was meeting them head on. Ymir unintentionally widened her own eyes and stared back, which made the smaller girl turn away in embarrassment. Ymir snorted quietly. As if a girl who unashamedly stared would be embarrassed by attention when it came her way! Besides, with her fair hair and huge blue eyes, Historia should be used to attention by now. Ymir, with her resting bitch face and dark complexion, had successfully avoided male attention from most of the school. The shallow douchebags at her school wanted someone who fit a more… Aryan feminine ideal. Ymir was actually thankful for that, since it meant she didn’t have to tattoo “LESBIAN” on her forehead or shave her head or something to give them a clue: not interested.

“Get in your groups!” Mr. Lybeck hollered with forced cheerfulness. Muttering and chair scraping began as Ymir grabbed the _Maleficarum_ and pen from her desk and slid down the aisle to the seat next to Historia. Samuel J., who was sitting in front of Historia, simply turned his desk around to see them. “So,” he began. Historia was pointedly not looking at Ymir. What the fuck. “So,” Ymir imitated, slumping back in her desk and holding up the _Maleficarum_. “What are we supposed to talk about?”

Samuel glanced at her with concern. “Uh, the discussion questions at the end of the document?”

Ymir flipped to the back. There were 5 discussion questions, each a full paragraph long.

“So…” Samuel started again. “Uh… Historia, right? Do you want to read the first one?”

The petite blonde flipped her hair over one shoulder and Ymir noticed her nails were charcoal with silver tips. Not what she expected from the little preppy in pink. Then again, Ymir would have expected a girl like Historia to be dressed in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform, leaning against lockers while talking to jocks. Ymir wondered what Historia would look like in a white button-up instead of a shapeless sweatshirt.

“In the _Malleus Maleficarum_ ,” the girl read sweetly and distinctly, “there are many dichotomies presented.” Ymir gaped. Apparently when she wanted to, Historia had a voice fit for poetry. It was silvery-smooth, emotive… clear. She sounded like she was reading a story -- a fairytale, maybe, about why a 15th century document was relevant enough for Ymir’s history class to spend 30 minutes talking about today.

Ymir leaned her elbows on the desk in front of her and peered at Historia’s face while she read. Her face looked softer, like she was reading something magical. “What are some of the dichotomies you see? Some are stated while others, for example, differences between men and women, are implied in the text. What picture do these dichotomies create of women & women’s sexuality?”

Historia looked up expectantly when she finished, and Samuel cleared his throat. “So um, what would be the first one?”

The three sat in silence for a moment, Historia and Samuel staring at their texts, and Ymir staring at Historia’s nails again. Finally Historia spoke. “Maybe that women are found to be witches, and men are the ones who do the finding.”

Ymir yawned delicately into her hand. The other girl shot her an angry glance and added, “also the authors say they’re more superst--” “This is stupid,” Ymir said suddenly, sitting up straight. “The question is basically just ‘what does the book say?’ which obviously we can see, so what’s the point in saying it in our ‘discussion’?”

Her air quotes around “discussion” seemed to anger Historia more. “Um, first of all,” she said, obviously trying to keep the frustration from her voice, “it’s not like the dichotomies are labelled.” Ymir rolled her eyes. “Also, the second part of the question is using our understanding of duality to explain the whole sexuality… idea.” Historia finished with a vague wave of her hand.

Ymir raised her eyebrows at the stormy blue gaze across her desk. “OK, so what can we say about women’s sexuality? Um men hated it,” she ticked off on her fingers, “since they hated women; they thought women were stupid Satanists and had to have all sexual desire fucked out of them on the regular…” Samuel’s face had turned bright red and he was doodling on his copy of the _Malleus Maleficarum_. “Oh yeah,” Ymir concluded, “I almost forgot the Bible. So I think that’s pretty much it about 15th century women’s sexuality.”

Historia had pressed her lips together and her blue eyes were looking daggers at Ymir. “You don’t have to be a snob,” she said in a low voice. “Some of us want to work through this stuff for our essay.”

Ymir gave a short breathless laugh. Seeing Historia mad was surprisingly exciting.“Honestly princess, don’t pretend like you’re an idiot like the rest of this class. You know you’re just gonna repeat stuff from the text in different words, and Lybeck’ll grade it like it’s _so totally brilliant_ because you used words like ‘duality’.”

It sounded harsher than she’d meant it to be, once she’d said it out loud. But this blonde preppy was so annoying with her sweetness act, like she cared about the rat maze of school. Ymir saw right through her: she knew Historia saw how stupid it all was, just like she did.

Historia’s cheeks were turning pink with anger. “Yeah, and I guess words like ‘analysis’ don’t mean anything to you, do they?” She looked down at the paper as if ashamed of her outburst.

Ymir blinked. Just when Historia had seemed almost real in her sarcasm, she shut herself down and played good girl again. This girl was despicably fake. Ymir was starting to hate her.

Samuel cleared his throat again. “I think we should just finish the study questions.” Ymir slowly flipped back to the list, keeping her eyes on Historia. “The next question is about sources cited by the authors of the _Maleficarum…_ ” Samuel said hesitantly, “Ymir, do you have any, uh, thoughts about that?”

Historia was drawing her pencil slowly across her paper again. Now Ymir saw that she was drawing a girl at the top of the page.

“I think their sources are stupid,” Ymir said sullenly, flipping back pages to see what sources there were in the _Maleficarum._ “Like… they cite the Bible, with a verse that talks about men, not women, and the next verse says ‘wicked women’ not all women, but their points are about all women.” Samuel nodded eagerly, seeming relieved that she had responded to his question. “Also they say Cleopatra did all kinds of evil to Rome, which is just stupid since Rome did at least as much bad to Egypt.” Samuel looked inquiringly at Historia, as if she might have something to add, but Historia just kept doodling in silence.

Ymir checked the clock above the door. They still had 15 minutes of discussion to fill. This wasn’t going like she’d hoped. Maybe she should have just let Historia babble on and written something down now and then to add to her essay. Now Samuel expected her to fill the silence.

“Whatever. What’s the next question?” she asked, turning back to Samuel.

“Uh… it’s… about what powers they have and what they do.”

“Historia?”

Her name left Ymir’s mouth sounding like a challenge.

Historia sat up straight. “There’s a whole list of things on the third page.” Her eyes clashed with Ymir’s like celestial steel. The mocking in Historia’s seemed to say, why list them all when we can see them just fine?

Ymir smirked. Now Historia was being truly herself. She glanced at the third page. “So all those things witches can do, but they can’t undo any of them. Hmph, I’d hate to have that power. Make a guy like you, you can’t make him stop.” Samuel laughed nervously. “Plus,” Ymir glanced at Historia, “they eat people. Now that could be a euphemism for something.”

“They only eat babies,” Historia muttered, scribbling in her drawing’s hair. *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my description of an average American high school isn't too off; I never actually went to high school... The other chapter will be up soon (should be before the end of the month). I really appreciate any feedback!
> 
> The translation of the Maleficarum I used for the titles is by Montague Summers, 1928. I came across it in an old school folder from when my history professor (by the name of Lybeck) had us read it -- though we didn't have any group discussions. :)


	2. It Is a Natural Vice in Them, To Follow Their Own Impulses

> _"And now let us examine the carnal desires of the body itself, which is in women insatiable."  - Malleus Maleficarum, 1486._

 

For the last 15 minutes, Ymir and Samuel took turns giving short answers to the discussion questions. Historia only commented twice, once to say she thought the authors may have actually believed in what they were writing (Ymir disagreed), and once (to Samuel) to say that no, she wasn’t drawing an anime girl.

Mr. Lybeck drew the class’s attention back to the front, only to say, “remember your assignments for the weekend,” _wait, assignments plural?_ Ymir thought desperately, _what the fuck was the other one?_ “and I’ll see you on Monday.”

Before he’d finished speaking, the bell shrilled and backpacks were rustling and zipping.

Ymir leapt out of her seat before Historia could even move. It was time to get out of here, get something to drink, and maybe get lost in the woods behind Reiner’s again.

**\------------------------------------------------------------**

The sun was pooling golden light around the Brauns’ backyard when Ymir finally arrived. It was a long bike ride from school, but it was worth it to feel like she wasn’t in the city anymore. Reiner and his group of friends had already cracked open beers and were standing around talking behind the ancient shed near the woods. Someone had a stereo going with generic classic rock.

Once in a while, someone in the group could get a keg; then they’d have keg stands or some other drinking contest. Ymir had once come fourth, beaten by two guys and another girl, but generally she wasn’t one of the best drinkers there. A couple guys were older high school dropouts, and she was pretty sure they were professional beer drinkers now -- and maybe using stronger substances. She wasn’t sure how many of her group they had turned to heavier stuff too, but she wasn’t going to ask.

Ymir propped her bike up against the shed. One of the dropouts, Mike, whistled and hollered, “Sweet ride!” Reiner nodded in her direction and waved his beer can at her. Ymir sidled over to where the small group and opened a sodas she’d brought. Tonight she’d be starting slow. A glance around the eight or so teenagers showed her that Reiner’s friend Annie was the only girl there.

Annie went to a different school than the rest, and she was straight, as far as Ymir knew -- enough incentive to avoid talking to her. Annie caught her eye and looked away, disinterested. Well, at least it was clear what she was thinking, not like another blonde Ymir could name. The others were laughing at something Mike had said, but Ymir turned her gaze to the sky.

The sun was now dipping behind vivid pink streaks, contrasted with the still pale blue sky around it. The color reminded Ymir of Historia’s gigantic eyes, which, she had to admit, were an attractive hue. They kind of reminded her of sapphires, or was it aquamarines? Whichever the paler stones where. Ymir’s gaze moved from down the sky to land on a set of eyes the exact same color. Ymir drew her breath in sharply. Her heart felt like a it had burst like a popcorn kernel, and she couldn’t breathe. Historia was standing beside the shed, her wide eyes taking in the group in front of her.

“Historia!” Reiner bellowed, waving at her. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Historia started walking over, her eyes flitting from person to person.

“Wait, hold on,” Ymir hissed. “How do you know her? You’re not in the same class.”

Reiner turned, his broad smile fading. “What, I can’t get to know younger attractive students?”

Ymir folded her arms across her chest and let her face go blank as Historia approached. As Reiner began making cursory introductions, she kept staring at Historia. The girl didn’t seem as flustered as she had been in class; she held Ymir’s gaze boldly until Reiner got to, “and this is Ymir, as you probably know from school.” Then she gave a little wave. “Hey. Nice to see you again.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Ymir said, ignoring the surprise she felt emanating from the teenagers around her. She felt absolutely incredulous. “You’re gonna pretend like you’re not even mad about what happened today?” Historia opened her mouth but no sound came out. She looked down uncertainly as Reiner glared daggers at Ymir.

“No, you don’t get to pretend like you’re happy to see me. What are you trying to pull?”

Historia’s eyes seemed empty and she chewed her bright pink lips. “Why do you think I… what makes you think…”

Watching her struggle, Ymir couldn’t take it anymore. “Fine, ok. Can I talk to you, alone, for a minute?”

Reiner turned to Historia, concerned. “Look, you don’t--”

“Sure,” Historia interrupted, still biting her lip. Ymir had a sudden urge to reach over and pull the rosy thing out of her mouth. God, this girl could match a kitten in cuteness. What a fucking preppy.

She grabbed Historia’s arm and pulled her toward the shed.

The place was heavily coated with dust and cobwebs that swirled around their heads as Ymir shut the door, but she hardly even noticed.

“Here’s the deal, Historia,” she started, unintentionally looming over Historia who had pressed herself against the filthy shed wall. “I just want to know. Not that I care if you hate me or whatever. But quit fucking around. Tell me I suck.” She beckoned encouragingly. “Come on. Tell me I’m a bitch. Then I’ll call you fake and we’ll be done here, OK?”

Historia’s eyes were getting wider and wider but now she looked more and more angry. “I don’t think that! You’re not a bitch. I just wanted to talk to you!” Her face was turning red but she stared straight into Ymir’s eyes. “I hate myself because I freaked out about talking to you, and when we finally said something to each other I blew up at you. I’m the bitch, not you.”

“Pfft, you’re not a bitch,” Ymir rolled her eyes. “Why would you freak about talking to someone though? That’s so stupid.”

“Maybe because you say things like that,” Historia flashed back. “And I’d rather not talk to someone who’s gonna treat me like crap.”

“Yeah? Then why did you want to talk to me?”  
“Because I… I like you.” Historia finished defiantly.

The silence in the shed was complete. Dimly, Ymir heard the sounds of Mike talking and the radio playing, but everything inside was stilled. Even the motes of dust in the sunbeams seemed frozen.

“You like me?” she asked finally.

Historia pulled a piece of paper out of her jean pocket. It was the first page of Malleus Maleficarum, complete with a pencil drawing of a dark-skinned, dark-haired, freckle-faced girl. “I watched you in class,” she said quietly. “You’re smart, I know you are. And beautiful.” Ymir scoffed. “No, it’s true; you really are." Her blue eyes flashed with anger again. "And I… I thought I’d keep it a secret, but that didn’t really work out and now I guess it’s good that you know how I feel about you,” she concluded in a rush.

Ymir’s chest was constricted again. She didn’t know why it was, but she knew she should say something. “Would you… want to help me with this history paper?” she managed.

Historia looked surprised. Not the normal response to a declaration of affection, Ymir supposed.

“I guess… I could do that…”

“I mean,” Ymir floundered, “I want to hang out… with you. Or whatever.” _Ymir, you dork._ “I mean to say, you’re like… a fairy princess, and normally that type of girl isn’t into me, so I’m just kind of surprised.” _Plus I’m not sure this is really happening, or if it’s some kind of cruel trick._

To her everlasting surprise, Historia grabbed Ymir’s jacket with both hands, hauling her forward until they were up against each other. She held on for the space of a heartbeat, then crushed her mouth against Ymir’s.

The taste of Historia’s mouth, mixed with the fresh smell of her hair, the soft grip of her hands as they felt their way around to Ymir’s back, was overwhelming. Ymir’s heart was suddenly pounding like it was trying to leap from the confines of her chest. She wasn’t sure where to put her hands or what to do at all, except press her own mouth closer to Historia’s. Something was exploding inside her. She finally wrapped her arms around her and pulled her as close as she could possibly manage.

Now that Historia had begun, there was no stopping her. She pushed herself harder against Ymir, her hands clenched in Ymir’s sleek dark hair on either side of her face. The drafty shed had begun to feel like a furnace, but clearly neither girl wanted to pause long enough to strip off jackets and sweatshirts. Ymir slid her cold hands around Historia’s waist, under her sweatshirt and t-shirt. Historia gave a little shudder as their skin connected, but kept her mouth to Ymir’s. The closeness had by now driven everything from Ymir’s head. Whatever she’d expected to happen tonight, she never could have expected this. Now the only coherent thought she had was _Historia. Historia_.

Historia murmured something against her lips. "What?" Ymir breathed back. "I said, you better stop calling me a fucking princess." Ymir felt her lips draw up in a smile.

It would take them quite a while to leave the shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My guess is Ymir and Historia will be too busy over the weekend to write any 3-page paper. But you gotta prioritize! -- Speaking of which, I should be writing a history paper myself. Oops.  
> (I can't write smut to save my life, so that was relatively chaste. Thanks, guys, for reading my first fic of this pairing!)


End file.
